


Negotiations

by onekisstotakewithme



Series: Orientation (College and Otherwise) [6]
Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Hawkeye Pierce, CUverse, Canon Non-Binary Character, College AU, Friendship, Gen, Humour, Idiots in Love, M/M, References to Canon, Stupid college boyfriends, Why can't these idiots communicate?, a complete and utter lack of self knowledge feat. Hawkeye Pierce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 07:43:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16154636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onekisstotakewithme/pseuds/onekisstotakewithme
Summary: "I just… really like him, is all.”Hawkeye has to tellsomeoneabout BJ.





	Negotiations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flootzavut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootzavut/gifts), [shewho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewho/gifts).



> ♥ for everything and a whole lot more
> 
> And thank you for letting me play in this sandbox ♥♥

He hears Klinger before he sees him, deep in the bowels of the costume shop, in his usual spot behind a rack of sequined evening gowns, absentmindedly humming to himself, and Hawk recognizes the song from somewhere.

Despite how tired he is, the sound makes Hawkeye grin, because maybe a lot has been going on lately (liking BJ Hunnicutt is a full-time occupation after all), but at least he can always count on his friends being constant.

Pulling a battered captain’s hat off the top of the rack, he steps around it, and into Klinger’s makeshift workshop.  “Honey, I’m home!”

Klinger looks up from threading his needle. “Oh my stars, look what the cat dragged in. Haven’t see you around lately, babe.”

Hawk shrugs. “I’m a busy boy, Klinger.”

Klinger snorts, and gestures to the fabric. “Right, you were _busy_. Here, hold that straight.”

Hawkeye does as he’s told. “Isn’t this what you have pins for?”

Klinger shrugs, focusing on his sewing. “What’s his name?”

“Who says there’s a he at all?” Hawk asks, going for coy.

Klinger fixes him with a look. “My reliable sources say you’ve been spotted with a hot piece of ass. Long legs, forehead the size of Ohio? Ringing any bells?”

“I don’t generally ask the people I fuck the acreage of their forehead, so no. But you can ring _my_ bells anytime, Maxy.”

Klinger swats his hand away. “Fuck off.”

He flutters his eyelashes. “But I’m having so much fun.”

Klinger pokes at him with a stray pin, and Hawk is quick to hold his hand up in surrender. “Cut that out, would ya?”

“Admit it, Klinger, I was the best fuck you ever had.”

Klinger pokes him in the nose with his pin, hard enough to make Hawk’s eyes water. “Margaret was better.”

“You take that back!”

Klinger laughs. “Why? It’s true.”

“What does Margaret have that I don’t?”

“Sense.”

“Well who needs that anyway?”

“Look, are you gonna tell me his name or do I have to beg for details about Mr. Forehead?” Klinger asks, eyeing Hawk.

“You know Max, talk about a big forehead is pretty rich coming from a guy who could’ve had Mount Rushmore carved into his proboscis. With room to spare.”

“That’s a cheap shot, Hawkeye.”

“So’s insulting my sluttitude.”

“I’m sorry that I’m the only one who doesn’t worship at your altar, oh Grand Vizier of Slutdom, but I have better things to do with my time. Now c’mon, I know ya didn’t give yourself those hickeys.”

“What makes you say that?”

He’s rewarded with a smirk. “Because I know for a fact you’re not that flexible.” 

“Thanks. You really do wonders for my ego, Max.”

“Now are you gonna tell me, or do I have to use you for a pincushion?” He holds up a pin, and raises his eyebrows.

“I’m sure I can be persuaded to talk…” Hawk winks.

Klinger rolls his eyes, and pushes aside the dress he’s working on. “Benjamin Franklin Pierce, I’ve told you a hundred times and I’ll probably tell you a hundred more, you will _not_ fuck anyone in my workshop.”

“Even you?”

“O Week is over,” Klinger says. “And I’ve grown up.”

“So what, now you’re too good for a brazen hussy like me? Who bought you your first training bra? Who performed an emergency stiletto-ectomy when your heel broke last year?”

“Who has been a royal pain in my skirt for two years?” Klinger asks in return.

Hawk considers this. “That’s fair. But you should be nice to me, Max.”

“And why’s that?” Klinger pulls his dress back over, clucking to himself over a crooked seam.

“Because if you don’t, I’ll tell Margaret about Mr. Forehead instead of you.”

Klinger gasps, head jerking up. “You wouldn’t!”

“Wouldn’t I?” Hawk grins. “I think so.”

“I mean this with love, Hawk, but may the fleas of a thousand camels nest in your armpits.”

“You say the sweetest things, Max.”

“C’mon, details, details!”

Hawk squirms in his chair, certain he has a few pins sticking into his ass from Klinger’s other half-finished projects, and can’t stop from grinning to himself, thinking of BJ blushing on his bed and stuttering out his question about Hawk’s major.

_God, he’s so fucking cute._

Cute and eager and _God_ , Hawk suddenly wants to see him again, kind of doesn’t want to _stop_ seeing him anytime soon-

“ _Woooo,”_ Klinger whistles, before grinning. “He _must_ be something special. I haven’t seen such a deep shade of red since those lobsters you tried to feed me last summer.”

“He’s just a boy I met.”

“Babe, with you, they’re never _just_ a boy, or girl, or what have you. They’re always the best thing since the Mud Hens.”

“Max, _everything_ is the best thing since the Mud Hens. The Mud Hens _suck_.”

“You take that back!”

“Do you want to know his name or not?”

Mollified, Klinger sits back down. “Fine, but if you make one more crack about Toledo, I’m gonna show you a neat little trick I learned _in_ Toledo.”

“His name is BJ,” Hawk says, unable to keep from grinning.

“BJ?” Klinger laughs. “That’s a sex act, not a name.”

“And it’s all you’re gonna know if you don’t shut your trap.”

“Okay, okay, BJ. What does it stand for?”

“I…” He stops. “I didn’t ask. I mean- what’s so funny?”

“You didn’t ask what his name stood for?” This makes Klinger laugh, a long and loud cackle, laughing hard enough that he topples out of his chair, hitting the ground with a thump.

“Would you quit laughing for Christ’s sake?” Hawk asks, looking over the table to where Klinger is still rolling around, giggling. “Or I won’t tell you a goddamn thing.”

“You _forgot_!” Klinger manages breathlessly, sitting up. “Oh Margaret is gonna _die_ when she finds out.”

“If you tell her, I’ll tell her what really happened to that dress of hers you borrowed.”

This stops Klinger’s laughter. “You don’t fight fair.”

“Of course not, how else would I win?”

Klinger manages to make his way back into his chair. “Have you fucked him yet?”

“No.”

Klinger’s eyes light up. “Oh, so it’s like that, huh?”

“What what what?” Hawk demands, confused. “It’s like _what_?”

“That blush of yours could light up Toledo,” Klinger says, shaking his head. “Well, I suppose you had to grow up sometime.”

“Look, Klinger, just ‘cause I haven’t fucked him yet, there’s no need to make it into a big deal-,”

“You were gonna have to give up your title eventually there, babe.”

“I’m not giving up any title. It’s… casual.” _Isn’t it?_

“Uh huh. Right. And I’m Pinocchio.”

“Well with _that_ nose…” He dodges the pincushion Klinger throws at him. “I’m not gonna _marry_ him, Max. I just… really like him, is all.”

“Oh, you really like him, huh? Really like him as in fucking his brains out or really like him as in you’d like to be his best friend?”

“I can go both ways. Stop making a thing outta this.”

“Call me crazy, Hawkeye, but I just want you to be happy.”

“I _am_ happy,” Hawk insists, ignoring the look Klinger is giving him. “BJ’s a good kid.”

It feels like something of an understatement, but it’s true. BJ _is_ good (in a way Hawk doesn’t ever remember being).

Klinger sighs. “God help us, you’ve adopted another baby queer, haven’t you?” Hawk grins, and Klinger rolls his eyes. “You didn’t learn your lesson after _George_?”

He shrugs. “I’m a glutton for punishment.”

“Well we all knew _that_. Fucking masochist.”

“And how’d you figure BJ was a baby queer anyway?”

“Because I know you, stupid. You have a type.”

Hawkeye laughs. “I’d be insulted, but I can’t argue with that. You know me best.”

“And don’t forget I love you. Even if you are nuttier than I am.”

“I love you too,” Hawk says, climbing on top of the table and leaning over to kiss Klinger on the cheek. “So that’s a no to sex?”

“I’m not that easy.”

“Spoilsport.”

“Sooooo,” Klinger drawls, leaning forward so he and Hawk are almost nose to nose. “When do I get to meet Mr. Forehead?”

“Who says you get to meet him at all?”

“I do. Why? You ashamed of Margaret and me, babe?”

“You’ve met you, right?”

They stare at each other for a second, before they both start laughing.

Klinger shakes his head, standing up. “I just want you to be happy. Or at least not… malcontent.”

“I’m a lost cause, Max, I’m always a malcontent.” Hawk cackles.

Klinger groans. “Would ya shut up for a second, Hawkeye? I’m trying to be heartfelt here!”

“Oh, okay, okay, I’m sorry.”

 “I care about you.”

“I know.”

“And if he hurts you, he’s gonna end up in the bottom of the river wearing cement chucks.”

“How did you know about his chucks?”

Klinger shrugs. “It’s a baby queer staple, isn’t it?”

“If you say so.”

“Look, Hawk, just… be careful, okay?”  

“I will.” He pauses. “Thanks, Max.”

Max grins. “Someone has to look after you, babe. I don’t need any thanks.”

“You sure?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say no to you buying Margaret and I dinner at that new Korean place downtown…. And giving us _all_ the details on this BJ character… I wanna know if I have any real competition.”

Hawk laughs, launching off the table to press a quick kiss to Klinger’s mouth. “I don’t know,” he says when he pulls away. “I haven’t seen him in a dress yet. You may have to fight him.”

 Klinger laughs. “I would, but I have such delicate features.”

Hawk throws an arm around Klinger’s shoulder, as they leave the shop. “C’mon you mad fool, let a sailor buy you dinner.”

“Hawkeye?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t care how special this kid is, you’re _still_ not fucking him in my costume shop.”

“No promises,” Hawk says, and then takes off, cackling.


End file.
